


Sweet Dreams

by CosmicMind



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling, Established Relationship, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War, gulag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: Heavy may be strong, but even strong men have weaknesses.





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this a while ago n forgot about it. whatever

Heavy could barely lift up his head and crack his dust-filled eyes open as he came back to consciousness. Where was he? Who was he? Why did everything smell like a campsite fire?

 

There was pain, sharp pain, that hammered the inside of his skull; that was the first thing he felt. The second thing was the fact he could barely hear right now, any sound replaced with a dull ringing noise. He tried to look around at his surroundings, but his vision was limited. All he saw was blurred colors, mostly reds, oranges, and murky browns.

 

Soon enough, the pain in the rest of his body caught up to his brain, burning like the fire he presumed was around him. Both of his arms were searing with pain, and his right leg felt similarly. He felt absolutely nothing in his left leg, which was fine, he could limp.

 

Another whip of his headache, and Heavy put a hand to his bald head as he felt something wet. He remembered; the memories were flooding back in as his vision regained and the ringing went down a bit. They were in a narrow corridor, going towards the next capture point, and then… and then…

 

Heavy’s thoughts were interrupted by a new noise breaking through the ringing. A sound- no, a voice. A screaming voice. A voice screaming out Heavy’s name.

 

_“M-Misha!!”_

 

Heavy knew this voice, but his brain was struggling to put a name to it at the moment. All he knew was that he had to get to his feet to go to the voice of distress right now. Ignoring how every muscle in his body cried out from the burning they felt, Heavy forced his arms and one good leg to push himself to standing.

 

The wounded limb got worse with the sudden movement, and there was no doubt something was broken. Heavy leaned against a nearby steel wall to get his balance. He began travelling his vision downwards but stopped himself before he reached his legs. It would better not to look, not until he found Medic.

 

Medic… _Medic_!

 

“Misha…”

 

Heavy now saw the source of the voice, which immediately made his stomach ready to throw his insides out. It was his Medic, yes, but nothing like the tall, imposing figure of the doctor Heavy knew. He was lying on the ground several yards away from where Heavy had woken up. His medigun was lying in pieces beside him, the ominous fluid soaking into Medic’s coat and hair along with his own blood.

 

As he wore his own shattered glasses and rubble embedded into the flesh of his cheek, he reached out for Heavy. “Mi…sha,” he croaked.

 

Heavy limped as fast as he could to Medic, the adrenaline helping to numb the pain he was in. Medic was trying to crawl over to meet Heavy halfway but was visibly in tremendous pain. The doctor gave up after dragging himself about a foot as he flopped back onto the floor. Heavy dropped to his knees and cradled Medic’s face, and Medic vaguely met his gaze.

 

“Heavy?” he groaned.

 

“Shh, no talk, doktor,” Heavy whispered, putting one of his large fingers to Medic’s split lip, “Will get you back to base, get you new Medigun. I am here.”

 

“N-No, Misha…”

 

“Save precious breath. I will take you.” Heavy began to stand up again and brought Medic to be cradled into his arms. While Medic did grip on the front of Heavy’s vest, he was trying to struggle.

 

“Misha, stop. Don’t… don’t bozher. It von’t be of use.”

 

Heavy looked down at Medic in his arms and met Medic’s glistening blue eyes behind broken spectacles, finally getting a good look at Medic’s condition. There was blood, lots of blood, stretching all over his body through his clothes. He probably had some broken bones in his arms and chest but was lucky no shrapnel embedded into his chest. Heavy’s gaze traveled across his body to his legs…

 

There were no legs.

 

What remained of the powerful limbs Medic ran miles with every day were uneven, bloody stumps, blown apart by the explosion. There was no way the medigun would be able to fix this or stopping the bleeding at all; there was just too much. Something inside of Heavy shattered, and it wasn’t his injured leg crying in pain this time.

 

He knelt back down with Medic, pressing his forehead down into Medic’s chest. He really, really wanted to shed a tear, but some inner force wouldn’t let him. Medic reached a shaky hand up at Heavy, rubbing his thumb on his temple the way Heavy always did to him. Heavy lifted his face back up and held Medic’s hand against his dirty, bloodied cheek.

 

“Misha, let me go,” Medic whispered.

 

Out of the corner of Heavy’s eye, the fire disappeared and was replaced with thick, howling snow swirling around them. Instead of just flames and rubble surrounding the two, people were now running around them. Someone probably got trampled nearby by the people escaping, but Heavy didn’t care right now. He didn’t want to leave Medic’s gaze, for he knew this place too well to bear to look.

 

“Zhey vill kill you,” Medic pleaded weakly, “G-Go now.”

 

Russian barks of commands sounded over the roar of the terrified crowd. Guns fired overhead now, warning the animals to stay in their cages. Heavy shook his head.

 

“Am not leaving you,” he said, forcing his best smile, “Would rather die here, with you. Please, doktor, we can go together, you will be okay.”

 

Medic flashed a grin at Heavy and opened his lips to whisper something inaudible. The ringing sound in Heavy’s ears returned at full force, and Heavy begged Medic to repeat that phrase again. He was on land yet felt like he was drowning. The world around him felt so, so numb now.

 

Was he dead?

 

Heavy sat bolt upright in bed as his chest rose and fell rapidly. He felt very sweaty; whether it was from the musty darkness or his own fear, neither was certain. For a moment Heavy’s heart picked up and his neurons fired in all directions. Where was Medic? Where was the fire, the gunshots? Was Heavy still alive?

 

With a shaky hand, he touched his chest to feel his heart pound behind his ribs. He was met with a soft cotton feeling covering his skin- pajama shirt. No vest and bullet strip covered in his own blood. The pain that seared his whole body was suddenly gone, too. He gave his left leg an experimental shift under the covers.

 

Though he still didn’t see Medic. He frantically swiveled his head around and was ready to call out for his beloved doctor when he felt a warm presence shift beside him.

 

Through the dim illumination of the moonlight outside the window, Medic’s form was revealed. As a man known for his trim uniform and extra care into his appearance that most of his colleagues, Medic definitely was the opposite of Sleeping Beauty. His hair stuck up in all directions and his mouth was wide open, a trail of drool coming down his chin. His stubble was already beginning to show, ready for the next morning’s shave.

 

Heavy’s anxiety finally began to fade as he smiled down at Medic. He brought a finger down to wipe away the drool and stroke Medic’s face lovingly. Medic was latched onto Heavy’s arm, still well asleep, as indicated by his loud snoring. He has always been a strong sleeper, and Heavy had never been gladder of the fact.

 

Snuggling back down under the covers, Heavy pulled Medic towards his chest and stroked his thick salt-and-pepper hair. He planted a garden of kisses upon his scalp, despite still visibly shaking from the nightmare. Though Heavy was glad that’s all it was: just a bad dream.

 

“Will never let you go, my love,” Heavy murmured as he eventually brought himself back to sleep.


End file.
